


Lab Time

by thranduils1



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Desk Sex, F/M, Office Sex, Professor Castiel, Professor Kink, Smut, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 15:23:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15318423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thranduils1/pseuds/thranduils1
Summary: Reader is a college student majoring in Social Work. She has an intimate relationship with one of her professors, Novak. Shameless desk smut.





	Lab Time

**Author's Note:**

> Moving my fics over from Tumblr. I tried to not touch it too much. I'll live with my mistakes. Originally posted 07/22/16.

You chewed your gum quietly as you walked past small groups of other students. It was about 8:45pm, so there were few classes left in session. Most of the students were coming from the student union or the library you assumed, heading home.

You approached Shaw hall, the main arts and humanities building on campus. The door was locked when you tried it. You sighed loudly, moving over to try another door. It was open, so you were confused as to why the other one was locked. You were about to walk in before someone behind you demanded,

“Hold it.”

Turning around, you faced one of the campus officers.

Inwardly, you groaned. You knew why she was stopping you and you were going to strangle your roommates as soon as you got home.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

Pointing at the door over your shoulder, you replied, “Going into the building.”

Her eyes ran over you slowly. She was taking in your ripped up black jeans and your tight crop top underneath your jacket. She obviously didn’t like what she was seeing. Or smelling for that matter.

Her gaze met yours again and she stated, “Smells like you’re smoking. And I’m not talking about cigarettes.”

You held out your empty hands and then gestured around you, “I can assure you that I’m not. Cigarettes or anything else. Plus, isn’t bud legal now, so even if I was?”

“Don’t be a smart ass,” she snapped.

The door opened behind you and you looked over your shoulder.

Professor Novak was standing there, holding the door open. He was wearing your favorite light grey button up, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, paired with a black, fitted pair of slacks. His eyes fell on you and you sensed some disapproval before they moved over to the cop.

“There a problem?”

“Nothing you need to worry about, sir. She was just lurking around the building.”

“It’s fine, officer,” Novak stated with confidence. The officer cocked her head slightly, surprised he was standing up for you. “Although she is late, she was supposed to meet me. She’s coming in to finish up a lab for one of my classes.”

Lab your ass. You hid a smile at his blatant lying.

The officer did not look entirely convinced that she should just let you go. Her eyes moved from you back to Novak and she sighed, “Alright.” To you, she said, “I would watch your tone with an officer. You might not get one as lenient as me.”

You gave her a half-hearted salute and replied, “I’ll take note of that. Thanks.”

As soon as she left, you turned on your heel to face him standing in the doorway. “Evening,” you said with a bright smile. You moved past him into the building.

“You reek of pot,” he commented as soon as he closed the door and met your stride.

“My roommates don’t know how to pace themselves, Novak.”

Like most other students, using a professor’s last name to refer to them was common. But, calling them it to their face was not. It was a power play for you. You knew when to drop the word ‘Professor’ to get him going. Using it all the time was going to make the effect wear off.

“Maybe you should change your clothes before you leave your apartment then,” he suggested as you two took to the second flight of stairs to the second floor of the building where his office was at.

You acknowledged this and then said, “Orrrr, I could just count on you to always save my ass.”

“That’s not going to happen,” he responded curtly, and you had to grin at his impervious demeanor when the two of you were out in the open.

You reached the door first, pushing it open and slinging your back pack and jacket onto one of his chairs.

“I see you’ve been indulging,” you commented, gesturing lazily at a glass of wine at his desk.

He closed the door behind him, locking it. “It’s been a long day.”

You sat down in the chair behind his desk, throwing your legs up to rest on the desk. You picked up his glass and took a drink.

Professor Novak stopped by the side of his desk, peering down at you. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“My bad,” you smirked mischievously, placing the glass back on his desk. You pushed yourself out of the chair, pulling a condom out of your jacket. You tossed it onto his desk before sinking to your knees by his desk.

This relationship had started when you had taken Social Theory 1 with him in your junior year of your undergraduate career. You had not encountered him before as a professor considering he taught higher undergraduate classes and was also a graduate school professor. He had taken a special interest in you the moment you had taken on a fellow class member when they tried to argue that altruistic suicide was not actually suicide. Your argument that they were too tied up in societal differences between the several types of suicide rather than the actual definition, among other things such as challenging their belief on the motivations, had caught his attention.

He had asked you to come to his office after class and in the moment, you thought you were in trouble and so had your classmate, who had had a smug smile on their face. Surprisingly, he wanted to talk to you about your interpretation of Durkheim’s work and ask how you were going to incorporate that into your final term paper with the other readings that had been assigned. It was a nice surprise for the rest of the semester that he praised you repeatedly and you couldn’t help but to every once in a while, throw a smug smirk back at your classmate who was always pissed at the exchanges.

You honestly do not know how it slipped to where it was. You had started visiting his office more and more. And one day leaning over his desk pointing at a citation in a text book, you had looked up and he was close to you. His eyes were shining, watching you explain yourself. Your lips had met. Kisses had turned to touching, touching to bare skin.

And here you were, a year later, freeing his already hardening dick from his pants. You ran your tongue up his length, eliciting a soft sigh from him as he leaned back in his chair.

Laying your tongue flat, you gave another lick up the length of his cock before wrapping your lips around him and taking him. Your tongue swirled around the head of his cock, before giving it a soft suck. He groaned quietly. His hand wrapped up in your hair as your head bobbed up and down on the tip of his cock. His breathing was become more erratic as you worked.

Pulling away with an audible pop, you moved your hand to the base of his dick. You twisted your wrist, using your saliva as lubricant as you pumped your hand slowly up and down. You met his eyes as you moved down to give a light lick on his balls. His fist clenched in your hair as you gently gave a small suck on them, your hand continuing its gentle motion on his shaft.

“Christ, Y/N,” he rasped, his eyes closed, enjoying the feeling.

You leaned back slightly, shoving your crop top down to expose your breasts. You had not worn a bra on purpose and a jacket specifically for that reason.

Placing his dick up between your breasts, you began moving up and down. His eyes were hooded with lust, watching you. His hands moved to the outsides of yours, helping you squeeze tighter. His hips bucked with your movements.

All of a sudden, he pushed you away and growled, “That’s enough.”

He snatched the condom off the desk where you had left it, tearing into it. You tried to grab it from him, but he yanked it away from you. “Over the desk. Now.”

There were butterflies in your stomach as you did what he demanded. He stood up behind you, and reached around you, unbuttoning your pants with ease and pushing them down.  
He pulled you up, your almost bare back against his still clothed chest.

His lips were on your neck as he husked, “You going to follow directions?”

“Yes, Professor,” you breathed.

Novak’s breath slightly shuddered and he roughly pushed you back down against the desk. You felt one of his hands at your lower back as he positioned himself between your legs and pressed himself in slowly.

A small moan escaped your lips as he moved inside you, letting you adjust to him.

“Fuck yourself, sweetheart,” you heard him order you in a deep voice.

You slowly rotated your hips, moving yourself up and down the length of his dick. With each movement, you took him deeper. His hands roamed over your hips and ass as you pleasured yourself. You knew he loved watching you do this, using him to get yourself off.

Both of Novak’s hands rested on your hips and he gripped tightly. “Mhm, good girl,” he murmured from behind him. He held fast, steadying you, before taking over the rhythm himself. One of his hands snaked up and his fingers played with your throat, loosely closing in around it.

“You want it, sweetheart?” he asked. You moaned in response, trying to increase the rhythm by pressing back on him. He gave you a rapt smack on your ass and you stopped immediately. “Answer me,” he demanded.

“Yes, Professor.”

He didn’t waste any time. Your hips rutted against the edge of his desk as he plowed you from behind. This was your favorite part. Novak always lost control of his steady pace at this point and just rode you raw. It turned you on more than you could explain feeling him lose himself in you.

His hands were gripping your waist tightly; definitely going to leave marks. His hips were snapping and bouncing off your ass. You felt one of his hands clasp your shirt still around your waist and grab on tightly, using it for leverage.

The scenario and idea of your professor fucking you never ceased to turn you on. You felt your core tightening with each thrust, pressing your face into his desk. You relished in this. This wasn’t for grades. You didn’t need to fuck him to get A’s, you did that on your own. This was simply for mutual pleasure in power play and good sex. You loved succumbing to his demands as much as he loved dominating you. Your finger circled your clit feverishly, keeping up with his pace.

Novak began losing his rhythm, his thrusts becoming unbridled. You licked your lips and groaned, “Cum in me, please.”

“You know I’m going to,” he rasped, letting go of your shirt and wrapping his arm underneath you, grasping your breast and pulled you closer to him. This angle gave him a different penetration and he hit your core with ease. You cried out and he chuckled, pleased, against your ear. He roughly kneaded your nipple between his fingers, drawing another cry out of you.

You leaned your head back on his shoulder as he continued to buck in you deeply. His lips trailed up your neck, leaving bruising kisses. “I love when you use me,” you gasped. He let out a guttural moan hearing this.

This pushed him over the edge and his fingers dug into your hips as he stilled, letting out an exasperated breath. He groaned as he emptied himself and you reached your end quickly after. You let your hand fall as you became spent.

He pulled away from you after a minute and you heard him pull the condom off and toss it into his trash can. You stood up straight from the desk and pulled up your pants quickly. Turning around to face him, you salaciously licked your fingers before pulling your top up, covering your breasts once more. As always, he was watching you intently, drinking you in.

“Good lab,” you commented teasingly before walking around his desk to grab your jacket.

“Smart ass.”

You turned around, grinning, “Funny. You’re the second person to say that to me. Maybe I should rethink my attitude.” Novak tucked his shirt into his pants, shaking his head at you.

Slipping your jacket back on and slinging your back pack over your shoulder, you informed him, “I’ll probably be at that sociology department grad party at Freddy’s. I’ll expect a mystery drink to show up for me.”

“I’m sure you’ll be surprised,” Novak commented, sitting back down at his desk.

A small laugh escaped your lips as you turned towards the door. You stalled though. You were curious.

“What about my grad school application?” you asked, turning your head to look over your shoulder, your hand on the doorknob.

He met your eyes for a split second before turning his attention back to the papers on his desk. His tone was direct, “I wouldn’t want you to go anywhere else.”

Stifling a smile, you shrugged and replied, “Good. I don’t want to move.” He shot you another look, unable to hide his amusement, and you smirked slightly. You turned and opened the door, leaving him alone in his office.  



End file.
